


Addiction

by 3cicero3



Category: Food Fantasy, Food Fantasy (Video Game)
Genre: Alcohol Abuse, Angst, Emotional Abuse, M/M, Manipulation, suidical mentions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-16
Updated: 2019-12-18
Packaged: 2021-02-26 01:07:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 15
Words: 9,358
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21814900
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/3cicero3/pseuds/3cicero3
Summary: The origins of Whiskey’s partnership with Tequila and the toxic relationship that followed.Warnings:Angst, alcohol abuse, emotional abuse, suicidal mentions, manipulation.No graphic violence or sexual content.
Relationships: Tequila & Whiskey (Food Fantasy), Tequila/Whiskey
Kudos: 12





	1. Chapter 1

“No!...”

Other than a quiet scream, muffled by a pillow, that night was deadly silent. Tequila jolted up in bed, his heart racing. For months he had been plagued with memories of Margarita. It drove him to drink more heavily and take greater risks on the battlefield. He knew his friends were disappointed in him. He was slowly wasting away, no longer that cheerful responsible person he once was. 

Who was he? Who was this terrified person, too sensitive to enjoy the social interaction he once reveled in? He used to go out drinking and dancing with friends and he had entertained more ladies than he could count. After all, he was very handsome and friendly. But perhaps they had started to see the darkness underneath his bright cheerful smile. 

Maybe it was the circles under his eyes from lack of sleep. Maybe it was that his hands trembled occasionally. Maybe he gave off bad vibes, and that was why the once flirty and vivacious ladies only smiled politely and kept their interactions with him very brief. Likewise his friends had begun to back off. He just wasn’t as fun to be around. He sighed, forcing himself out of bed. The day wouldn’t wait on him. It would just keep going. 

After a long day of chasing fallen angels, he fell back into his routine of grabbing a drink alone at the bar, hidden away in the shadows to be gloomy on his own without prying eyes. What he didn’t expect was that a certain food soul had been watching him descend into darkness with great interest.

Whiskey had visited the area in order to study and experiment on the fallen angels which seemed to be drawn there. During his studies, he discovered a food soul who kept sniping the fallen angels he had chosen for experimentation. It couldn’t continue. He decided that the simplest way forward would be to just kill him. He learned the blonde food soul’s schedule and followed him to a secluded area of the bar evening after evening. And evening after evening, the unknown food soul drank and wept, unaware that he was being watched. _What a pathetic existence..._ Whiskey thought to himself. But he was intrigued. Was there a grudge behind his unhappiness? Something to exploit? He decided that to kill him would be a waste, and he needed to put his plans on hold for just a little while for Lilia’s sake, which _always_ came first. He waited patiently for the food soul to get very drunk before he intervened. 

“Are you trying to kill yourself?” 

Tequila’s eyes snapped open and he quickly composed himself, his heart racing. The question shook him to the core.

“... with all that drinking,” Whiskey added, gesturing to the glasses piling up, “It’s not good for your liver you know...”

“...I know...”

Whiskey took a seat across from Tequila, carefully stacking the glasses to clear up the mess. 

“It must be hard... facing all of those fallen angels alone...” he said, his red eyes watching for any hints of information that might be useful to him. 

“It’s better this way... I would only endanger my friends. I’ve made so many mistakes...”

Whiskey sat back, somewhat disappointed. So the problem was to do with himself. It was a lot harder to convince someone to buy into a solution when it was just their own wellbeing at stake. Individuals were strange in that regard.  
Especially something less tangible like this. _Fine, fine, I’ll scrap the stupid plan_ he thought, irritated. 

But a small flicker of blue light caught his eye. It was barely visible, but yes, it was there! How ironic... the food soul that struggled to keep the world safe was slowly turning into what he destroyed and he didn’t even know it. At this rate it might take years or even decades, but it had definitely started. All because he was being self destructive? Interesting. After years of painstaking research, this just fell into his lap. A food soul primed and ready to fall. All it would take was a simple push....


	2. Chapter 2

Over the next few months, Whiskey returned to the same bar, took a seat at the same table, drank a little, and watched Tequila fall deeper and deeper in depression. He found out that talking about Margarita sped the process up considerably. Question his actions, even in a friendly way, would make him shut down. The food soul apparently had zero tolerance for his own mistakes. The process itself took such a short amount of time that Whiskey felt a little deflated. It was that easy? He couldn’t even have fun with it...

He stared at the languishing food soul, hesitating before picking him up in his arms and taking him home. Tequila was so out of it that he didn’t even notice, and Whiskey doubted he cared either. That night was a turning point, and a valuable lesson. Just because he _could_ push a food soul over the edge very quickly, it didn’t mean he had to. He could enjoy himself first. He had already become an expert on how to tear him down, so all that was left was to learn what sparked hope and happiness in him. It was a strange concept, but he had to remind himself that all this coddling and patience would be worth it. 

Building Tequila back up was more difficult and time consuming than he thought. And it had an irritating side effect. Tequila had gotten much closer to him, asking all sort of personal questions to be answered by lies he had to constantly keep straight. But each time he pulled Tequila back into the darkness, it was all worth it. The feeling was euphoric. Whiskey savored the absolute comfort of a being as tainted as he was for as long as he could, till the last second he yanked him back up into the light. 

These months made Tequila both utterly miserable and desperately attached to Whiskey, his savior. Only Whiskey would allow him to complain and worry without a shred of judgement. And only Whiskey would be physically attentive, too. The Holy See and his old life was far far away. The fallen angels could wait... he deserved to be happy.

Until he didn’t. The time a poor human ended up dead. Rumors of Margarita being mistreated by her captors... Martini getting injured by trying to take down too many fallen angels all by himself. At least Whiskey was honest about it. He didn’t sugarcoat it. 

“Should I go back?” Tequila asked, devastated.

“You left. If you go back now, you think they will even accept your help?”

“No... I don’t think they will. I was on thin ice anyway... they are probably happier without me...”

“They are professionals... mistakes cost lives... you can’t blame them for wanting good work...”

“You’re right...” he uttered softly. 

“Come here,” Whiskey said. He was getting very good at keeping Tequila’s confidence exactly where he wanted it. He embraced the distraught food soul, tolerating the sappy closeness, knowing he would get another chance to pull him further down later. Too much would drive his victim crazy.


	3. Chapter 3

“We can do it!” Tequila said cheerfully, walking backwards as he and Whiskey traveled through town.

“They don’t particularly bother me,” Whiskey replied with a shrug, the blonde’s mood rubbing off on him somewhat.

“Fallen angels don’t *bother* you?! Must be nice!”

“I have no reason to involve myself...”

“You’re a food soul! It’s your job to protect humans, isn’t it?”

Whiskey didn’t have a suitable answer for him. 

“Come onnnn! I want to fight with you! Let me show off... please!”

“If it will make you shut up-“

“Yesss!! Thank youuuu!” Tequila sang with a big grin, “You make me happy!”

They went on into the forest, both very good at moving silently. They caught the trail of an enhanced fallen angel, a very high level one, perfect to test their skills. Whiskey was very well aware that he had much more powerful magic, but he considered whether it would be wise to show Tequila. Unfortunately his hand was forced. The fallen angel ambushed them and Tequila was soon overwhelmed. Whiskey sprang into action using his alchemy, delivering two terrible blows to destroy it. He pressed his hand to the wound in his side, noticing the slippery sticky red mess beside his feet. 

“You’re hurt!!” Tequila cried, racing to his side and using all his energy to heal him. 

“It’s nothing,” Whiskey said with a calm smile.

“It’s _not_ nothing! Don’t ever do that again!” Tequila chided, closing the wound, “Or I’ll clobber you!”

 _Huh?_ Whiskey looked puzzled. Where was this coming from? Such familiarity... and threats? Was he letting his experiment walk all over him??

“There...” Tequila said with a smile, finishing up the healing and patting Whiskey’s cheek affectionately, “Good as new.”

Whiskey watched him silently, half furious, half flattered. He ought to have put Tequila in his place. Like a snake, he felt ready to strike. But his hesitation allowed Tequila another opening.

“Don’t sulk! I’ve been doing this a lot longer than you have. I can’t help that I’m better at combat than you!” He boasted playfully.

“Don’t be stupid,” he snapped, “You are so far out of your league you don’t even know. You are very foolish. If you were on your own with that thing you’d be dead.”

“So would you, though,” Tequila replied seriously.

 _What the hell?! Yesterday, that would have done him in! What the hell just happened?_ Whiskey thought furiously. “Which is why I don’t go running looking for trouble. No wonder your friends get kidnapped and hurt.”

Tequila’s heart sank. Was Whiskey such a dark person that he couldn’t see light right in front of him? He realized that all the bitter words were never truly about himself. While much of what he said was true, the violence directed at Tequila felt more like a mirror, reflecting Whiskey’s own hatred rather than a fair criticism. He wanted to see someone hurt... but why? Tequila wanted to find out.. He rubbed his arm and gave a weak, sad, smile, pouring out his heart.

“I’m so sorry... you’re right... I’m the worst... I shouldn’t have jumped right in... I’m so stupid...” 

And suddenly his question was answered... Whiskey took Tequila’s hand and squeezed it.

“Don’t beat yourself up,” he muttered.

 _But he wants me to..._ Tequila realized, very curious about their arrangement. “No, what I did was unforgivable...”

The hand holding turned into an embrace. Like it had been calculated. “Stop trying to make me feel better,” Tequila said, his heart racing in growing terror. Whiskey was extremely dangerous... He had been pushing him to the edge intentionally. For the purpose of getting close. This was crazy... he had to escape... 

Calm red eyes stared into Tequila’s frightened blue eyes. He knew...


	4. Chapter 4

Whiskey shoved Tequila against the trunk of a large tree. The game was over. It had been a fun experiment. 

“Please!!! If you are going to kill me, not here!” Tequila begged.

“I don’t take requests...”

“B-but if you do... using your magic... a-a fallen angel could smell it... and you c-could be killed too!” 

“I don’t _have_ to use alchemy,” he replied with a calm smile.

“Wait! WAIT!! What about my blood?! That will attract them too!! Please!! At least for yourself, listen to me!”

“You’re bad at this. You weren’t built to deceive...”

“I’m NOT trying to trick you! Please! I’ll do anything! I know you don’t want to kill me! You’re just worried I will tell someone about the horrible things you’ve been doing...” Tequila reasoned.

“ _What_ horrible things?...”

Tequila didn’t answer, afraid he would be killed immediately if he said it out loud.

“Answer me...” Whiskey demanded in a soft dangerous voice.

“Creating fallen angels...” Tequila answered quietly, completely unaware that he had been part of this experiment. “Y-you talk in your sleep... I-I couldn’t help but hear it... that’s why you want to kill me, right? Because you think I figured it out?” 

“If I let you live, what would you do with this information?” 

Tequila was put in a tough spot. “I would try to convince you to stop. I... think you do it because... you’re alone... that’s why you...hurt me too...”

Whiskey couldn’t believe his ears. What a stupid food soul. “Any last words?”

“Uhh...” Tequila’s stomach twisted, “Try to find happiness in this world. Even if you have given up on it... It will never give up on you. Even if you think people are dumb or greedy or evil... there is a light there too.. and I know that light exists in you too...”

“It doesn’t. But thank you for thinking so highly of me,” Whiskey replied swiftly, drawing his dagger. 

Tequila nodded and closed his eyes, ready.

As Whiskey brought the knife to his neck, he stopped. The food soul really wouldn’t fight back? He was really ok with this? He wasn’t just trying to distract him or weasel his way out. He embraced death. It was the truth that Whiskey saw no light in himself, but he did see a little bit in Tequila, and it was pure enough that it reflected back at him. He didn’t think of himself as a good person. He was truly selfless. And Lilia’s code demanded that he release a person without sin and unwilling to back away from death. 

“You’re dead,” Whiskey informed him, holstering the knife and releasing Tequila, “Which means you are free. Stay out of my way, and we won’t have problems.”

“Wait....” Tequila said breathlessly, his heart still pounding in his chest, “I... I can help you... Not create fallen angels, but maybe with something else?”

“You really want to choose this life? There is no looking back if you do. You’ll be sent to do dangerous tasks that will question your morality. Look, Tequila... You’re actually a good person. I will lie to you constantly and deceive you. You will never be able to trust me.”

“I can’t live without you. I don’t know what you did to me but... it is what it is... I don’t want to be alone...” Tequila explained, coming to this realization as soon as he was told he was free. Escape wasn’t an option. Though he was afraid, he didn’t want it. 

Whiskey smiled, but it wasn’t his usual smile. His little experiment that he so loved was also addicted to him. He couldn’t help but be a bit proud. He could keep picking him apart. He could keep rescuing him from the edge of insanity. And the rescue would hold meaning too. He could truly enjoy the entire process. 

Tequila knew what he was getting himself into. A life of emotional torture and healing, repeated again and again. But he had his own motives. He wanted to chase away the darkness in Whiskey’s heart. Even if it took many years. Only then would the world be safe from him. And maybe Whiskey could find happiness too.


	5. Martini Intermission

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A brief intermission from Martini

Ever since _that incident_ my best friend changed into a completely different person. He was always more serious than people thought. I always noticed a quiet darkness surrounding him, but he could always be lifted out of it with a joke or friendly banter. After a while, he stopped smiling. I mean.. he did smile sometimes but not because he wanted to... Anytime I tried to talk to him, he would unload _everything_ or not talk at all. I was either talking him off a cliff or wishing he would say _something_. And eventually he stopped sharing anything with me. I noticed him hanging around someone else, and I wondered if that other person was listening to him. When I asked about it, he completely cut me off. Still, I really cared for my friend, and I made the effort of trying to find out what was going on. And what I witnessed shocked me... When they didn’t know I was listening nearby, I heard pieces of a conversation. Tequila was apologizing for something he had done, and this man... this _bastard_... was manipulating him!! He kept telling my friend how foolish he was, how no one liked him, and that it was his fault, and he needed to grow up and stop complaining... He told him that he was a burden on us, and that his feelings of inadequacy were absolutely justified. That evening I found Tequila passed out beside a mountain of bottles at a small table in the local bar. I wanted to save him... but.. the bastard was there... waiting for me. I threatened to bring the whole Holy See, but that man didn’t seem to care. He told me that he wasn’t wanted anyway. But I want my friend!! I don’t care what this bastard has made him do! I want to rescue him and go back to the days when we used to have fun.. I finally got a chance to speak with Tequila when he was sober. He had dark circles under his eyes and his frame looked a little thinner. There was an aura of blue light that I recognized surrounding him. My poor friend was falling. I begged him to escape with me, but he just smiled, that fake sort of smile, and shook his head. He told me he had chosen this path, that he still had work to do. He knew the bastard was slowly killing him but he didn’t care. There was nothing I could say to convince him to come home with me. He was addicted... addicted to the abuse of that nasty food soul with the thin rimmed glasses and blood red eyes. And I made it _my_ mission to destroy that bond before it consumed my friend.


	6. The start of something new

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> End of the prequel, onto the story

Tequila searched frantically for Whiskey. As soon as he spotted him, he leapt forward, closing the distance as quickly as possible. He apologized profusely, stumbling over his own feet and nearly falling flat on his face, but Whiskey caught him. 

“It’s all my fault...” Tequila uttered quietly, completely distraught, “...I can’t do anything right lately... what is wrong with me?...”

Preparing Tequila to transform into a fallen angel meant stripping him of all his hope and letting him fall into emptiness and despair. He had tried physical surgery on Pizza, and the results were disappointing. After a great deal of research, he realized that emotional manipulation was the surest way to simulate natural progression. What he didn’t realize was that the process took a toll on himself too. He could kill, injure physically, poison, and overthrow entire kingdoms, but emotionally torturing someone without sin who trusted and relied on him dredged up feelings of his sweet Lilia. The blonde hair and blue eyes certainly didn’t help. 

“Nothing is wrong with you,” he heard himself say, as he helped the devastated food soul to his feet, “Show me a smile...”

Tequila was still flustered, but he did as he was told, beaming with all his strength, as if he had mustered every scrap of light within himself to show it off. Whiskey felt his heart in his throat. It was just as beautiful as Lilia was. He regretted ever trying to stamp out that light. The only positive was that Tequila was completely dependent on him. That was something Whiskey planned to maintain, needing that flicker of light just as desperately. 

“You are perfect as you are,” Whiskey said, brushing back his long golden hair from his eyes before kissing his lips tenderly. 

Tears spilled from Tequila’s eyes as he clung on to the slender food soul. He was so emotionally exhausted. He melted in Whiskey’s arms, feeling his hands stroking his hair softly. He didn’t even know if this was something he wanted. He wasn’t particularly attracted to him. But he craved the physical contact. It felt as if Whiskey was keeping him from falling apart. He needed that glue. He was just so tired... He slowly closed his eyes and blacked out in his arms. He could hear his ears ringing, but the world was pitch black. He could feel that his face was hot. But other than that, he was completely out. 

Whiskey rocked the tired food soul in his arms, very carefully watching over him. Tequila was _his_ and he planned to protect him no matter what. For thirty minutes he held his precious experiment, stroking and kissing his hair, until Tequila finally came to. 

“It wasn’t a dream...” Tequila murmured softly, still in shock.

“No, it wasn’t,” he confirmed.

“You... love me?” He asked numbly, still trying to process what was going on.

Love. It was a cheap word in Whiskey’s opinion. But it would have to do. There was no better explanation for his feelings that could be easily understood. 

“I do,” he answered.

“But... why?” 

“I just do,” Whiskey replied sharply, “Just... accept that for now. I can try to explain later when I have a chance to think about it.”

“Okay...” Tequila was just happy to be loved. It didn’t matter that he didn’t return the feelings. He did appreciate and respect Whiskey. Maybe that was close enough. Maybe in time he would feel differently. He rested his head on Whiskey’s shoulder, content to be close to him.


	7. To Fall

.

Tequila didn’t question Whiskey’s decision to move operations out of Nervas and to the outskirts of Tierra to the eastern coast. Since choosing this life, he trusted Whiskey in everything, knowing what it entailed. He was too anxious to think about protecting the world the way he used to anymore. Whiskey’s version of protecting the world was not morally right, he knew that... but... in a way, he was on the inside. It was a slow, calm path that he could walk at his own pace instead of being assaulted every day by more opponents than he could handle. Though in the back of his mind, deaths were piling up due to his inaction, he knew that sooner or later he would join them if he had kept fighting at that impossible pace. 

The nice thing about hiding away in a remote area was that Tequila could enjoy the world as it was. The breeze kissing his cheeks and stroking his hair, the gentle waves licking at his feet, the warmth of the sun on his face. No screams, no injuries, no stress. He sat in the sand, his boots laying to the side of him. In this small, insignificant part of the world, he was free. He was at peace. 

Whiskey stood on top of the rocky cliffs, looking down at his fragile experiment. He had realized that pulling Tequila back up from the darkness was getting more complicated. The food soul was starting to become apathetic. The highs weren’t as high, and the pitch black lows were also duller. And oddly, no matter how he had tried to reverse the falling process, it seemed to continue to progress, no matter what his mood was. It was a last ditch effort to take him away from the troubles of the world to hopefully heal on his own in a peaceful environment. But in the back of his mind, Whiskey dreaded that the damage had already been done. He descended down the grassy hills, back around to the sandy beach to join his companion. 

“Tequila, what is it that you want out of life?” He asked calmly, inwardly desperate to stop the process he had started, no matter what the cost, 

Tequila looked back and smiled with a slight shrug. “I don’t know anymore...”

“You want this world to be peaceful like this, don’t you?”

“It would be nice... but I don’t have the energy to change the world...” he said softly. 

“I could help you,” Whiskey offered in a curt quiet voice.

“You’d be wasting your time. The world is too big and too complicated for one person to make much of a difference.”

Whiskey wrapped his arms around Tequila’s tightly, wishing he had been more precise with his experimentation. 

“I don’t believe you...” a weak voice muttered, startling Whiskey. 

“... Good.. You shouldn’t...” Whiskey said, too caught off guard to react properly.

“Will you let me go?”

Whiskey released his grip, not really understanding what was going on. His experiment was behaving abnormally. Normally this sort of attention pleased him. 

The glowing blue aura around Tequila very rapidly engulfed him, forcibly pushing Whiskey away from him. The red eyed food soul was livid. Without so much as a word of warning?! All over?! Up in flames, literally?! Like this?! In an instant, Tequila had lost all color. His cape, his hair, skin, eyes, everything had turned into grays. There was no recognition in his dull eyes. He lifted his body up from the sand slowly and clumsily unholstered his gun.


	8. Follow your heart

Whiskey very quickly knocked the gun out of the fallen angel’s hand. Though his reaction was very slow, his unfocused grey eyes very slowly lifted to his opponent, excitement building. He craved a good fight and there was only one living breathing thing in front of him. 

“Tequila!” Whiskey ordered sharply, “Snap out of it!”

Inside the fallen angel was a primal drum beat, something far away from him, calling him to _live_. The wind sang in his ears like a mother calling out to her children. The foreign man standing in front of him represented an alien, unnatural infection upon the world. Mother was calling on him to destroy it. Though his heart and determination was razor sharp, his movements were clumsy. Something was impairing his vision and his balance, but it was just an inconvenience. He lunged at the food soul in front of him, his chest filled with burning sense of justice and protectiveness. 

Whiskey had dodged much faster and more precise attacks before. He refused to run away from his experiment. It hadn’t been hard to force fallen angels to submit to his will before, but he was reluctant to use pain as a deterrent with Tequila. He had already hurt him enough. He was convinced that there was another way. 

“You’re very lively!” Whiskey said with a calm smile, “We can continue to dance like this or perhaps you can tell me what you want?”

“I want you to stop moving...” Tequila said dully.

“Sorry, I like my head where it is! Do you know why you are trying to destroy me? Aren’t we friends?”

“You are a blemish on this perfect world.”

“True, true, but surely I have some redeeming qualities? Don’t you remember me?”

“I remember you trying to destroy me for your own entertainment...”

“Aha! You’re still in there! Oddly you make much more sense like this... I always wondered why you stayed with me when you knew what I was doing... Do you remember that too?”

“I’m not playing your game.”

Whiskey moved closer, forcing Tequila to stumble as he tried to strike.

“Outclassed even as a fallen angel unfortunately,” Whiskey chuckled.

The realization that he was no match for the food soul swept over Tequila like one of those brisk splashing waves at the beach. Mother wasn’t calling him to die at this man’s hands, but to _live_ and fight another day. He took a step back, his foot digging deep into the sand, before he released a powerful kick, spraying sand into the food soul’s eyes. It bought him just enough time to escape. The beating drum in his chest pounded steadily, guiding him to safety, shelter in the thick forest. There he could at least hide until he was used to these new senses. In the distance, he could still hear Mother’s voice, directing the clouds and pushing the waves like a rocking chair. Did all fallen angels hear Mother? Was this what they fought for? Were they aware that they were chosen? The blessed entities that would inherit the earth and defend against the war hungry humans and food souls?

In his heart of hearts, Tequila believed that this was his true form... that before he was created, his spirit existed like this, one with nature and Mother, more alive than any crafted food soul or corrupted human. _His people_ were waiting for him, still breathing in the wind, still swimming in the streams, and walking in the sandstorms. They existed to guide him, to love him. That was love, true love, and all they asked in return was for him to exercise his temporary power to eliminate the disease from the land. He could do that much to honor them, right?


	9. Redemption

_Damnit!!_

Whiskey searched around the area, quickly realizing that he wasn’t going to find a fallen angel on his own when it was actively trying to hide from him. He needed to find his experiment as soon as possible, and there was only one person he knew other than Tequila himself who was expertly trained to track fallen angels down. He would need to find Martini...

In the outskirts of Nervas, the last place Tequila and Whiskey had been seen, Martini waited patiently, ignoring any orders that would lead him out of the area. He was sure Croissant would be on his case, but his brother was out there somewhere, being manipulated and destroyed. He needed someone to run to. He was already falling and he couldn’t have much time left. 

“Good evening,” a voice greeted from behind him. 

“Speak of the devil,” Martini replied darkly, turning to face the red eyed food soul, “Where is Tequila?!”

Whiskey smiled calmly. “You know, I was just about to ask you the same thing... Last place I saw him was the beach at the eastern coastline.”

“And you left him there?!” Martini barked, hoisting his bow over his shoulders to immediately set out for the coast. 

“Well, I needed help locating him...”

“You are the worst sort of person. Tequila should have never gotten involved with you!!”

“You know, I hear this sort of thing so frequently that it’s lost its impact,” Whiskey said, following behind the other food soul. 

Whiskey decided not to reveal that Tequila had already fallen. There was no way to predict what Martini’s reaction would be. He didn’t need the man giving up immediately or deciding to kill his friend. 

When they reached the coast, Martini started his work, scanning the area for any signs of his friend. The advantage he had was knowing where the most difficult terrain to search would be. He could bet that Tequila chose the heavily wooded area to hide in. Sure enough, as he entered, he saw traces of movement. Dried footprints - barefoot, which made his heart sink a little. What the hell had Whiskey done to him to make the food soul escape too quickly to remember his boots? 

Tequila stared ahead, watching the two food souls struggle to traverse the area littered with unstable trees that were attempting to take root in the sand. He had set traps for them, since he couldn’t hope to fight and win otherwise. 

Martini had tried to compensate during Tequila’s absence, but the truth was that he didn’t have the other food soul’s eye for details. Upon nearly stumbling on a trap that Tequila had certainly made, Martini signaled Whiskey to stand still. His friend was definitely still here and very serious about not being found. He needed to switch strategies.

“Tequila!” He shouted, “I just want to talk! I’m worried about you!”

Suddenly he saw a glimpse of his friend advancing towards him. The food soul had always been fast, but not like this... A bullet whizzed by his head, jolting him out of his trance. He grabbed his bow and arrows and loosed a few to buy himself some time to dodge without stepping into any traps. In an instant, Tequila was standing before him with an arrow stuck in his shoulder. He hadn’t even attempted to avoid it. Upon seeing him clearly, Martini realized that his friend had fallen. 

Despite the grey clothing and grey skin, Tequila looked more vibrant than he had ever been, even since they had first met, before his downward spiral into depression. There was an infectious confidence enveloping his friend. Martini put down his weapons and raised his hands, giving Tequila the upper hand on purpose. The fallen angel drew closer to him, his gun at his side, but still ready to shoot.

“You look good,” Martini said weakly, “Seriously... I’ve never seen you like this... Not the falling I mean... but you look as if you live without regret.”

“Regret is pointless,” Tequila explained, still slowly advancing, “The only thing that matters is keeping this world safe....”

“Exactly!”

“ _You_ are helping humans destroy this world. As I once did. Martini, because of our friendship, I am not killing you immediately. But the next time I see you, I will be compelled to protect this world.”

“As will I!” Martini said firmly, “Tequila, your philosophy is wrong. You know in your heart-“

“You do not know my heart,” Tequila snapped, “The humans are wrong. They have used food souls to fight their wars. They cause destruction wherever they go. Fallen angels are simply trying to restore the earth.”

“Humans are flawed, you’re right! But they don’t deserve to die! You know that. You’re a gentle soul. I don’t believe you would hurt an innocent person. I believe you have been hurt and abused by one very nasty food soul, and it has warped your perception of all humans and food souls. Don’t go down this path... please... I can help you... You don’t have to fight alone.”


	10. A Fallen Angel’s Contract

It was the truth that Tequila believed most humans were indeed innocent. Even in his changed state, he couldn’t deny it. If he were to come face to face with a human maiden, would he really raise his hand against her? His heart dropped. Even as a fallen angel, somehow he was also failing to protect the world. He was just pretending to be a force for justice... he was neither skilled nor motivated enough to follow through. His existence was too small to make a difference, even with the combined energy of the lifeforms that surrounded him. 

“Tequila... let’s go home...”

“The Holy See is no place for someone like me...”

“We can help you..”

Tequila glanced away, unable to put his feelings into words. The love and fellowship at the Holy See was conditional upon his ability to destroy beings such as himself. Abominations. But the lives still lingering around him called for Martini’s death. He could not please either side. He took in his surroundings and noticed Whiskey standing a short distance away. He must have brought Martini here. Could he have known it would destroy his spirit? He was very good at that. 

“Martini, you’re not going to like the answer I’m about to give you, but please listen. I wasn’t happy at the Holy See. I was constantly stressed, overworked, and regretful of the mistakes I kept making. It wasn’t healthy for me. There was no light at the end of the tunnel, and that’s something I need. And now I know that it is completely misguided. It is an institution I ought to destroy, but I don’t have that sort of power.”

“What about Candy Cane? And Fish and Chips-“

“Don’t do that to me! You know I care very much for them as I do you. But they too cause much destruction to this world. I would be compelled to kill them if I could. Not saying that I would have the heart to do it, but I could never love them like I once did.”

“And you don’t consider us brothers?”

“I haven’t considered us brothers in a very long time. I know what you are trying to do, and it doesn’t work on me anymore. You can blame Whiskey for that,” Tequila replied, “I’m about to be punished for releasing you to continue to do harm. That is the strength of my conviction.”

“What?” Martini asked, truly not understanding the person who stood before him.

“You should go. Leave while you can.”

With a heavy heart, Martini parted ways with the man who was once his brother. He shouldn’t have been surprised that a fallen angel would not want to join the Holy See, but this was _Tequila_. If only Whiskey had not gotten involved! None of this would have happened. 

Tequila looked to Whiskey. “Are you just going to stand there?”

Whiskey opened his mouth to reply, but not before a strange black smoke rose from the ground and surrounded Teauila. Was this the punishment he spoke of?

“Nghh-... I-I can’t see...” Tequila wailed pitifully. 

Whiskey watched with great interest. Was this what compelled fallen angels to destroy food souls and humans? A physical punishment by... nature? Some other force? And this force was devouring his experiment... 

“Tequila! Over here!” Whiskey shouted, extending his hand. 

Though he couldn’t see, Tequila timidly followed Whiskey’s voice until his hand was grabbed and he was pulled into a tight embrace. 

“I’ve broken a contract before. I can break whatever is binding you, too. I promise,” Whiskey whispered as he watched the black smoke take various forms like shadows of fallen angels and steadily advance to consume them both.


	11. Punishment

The black smoke creatures following Tequila seemed to be frightened by Whiskey. Interestingly, they would stop a short distance away, waiting for him to drop his guard. Whiskey wondered to himself how long they would continue to pursue him. And it was also odd that Tequila seemed to understand what their purpose was. How much did he know, exactly?

“Tequila, do you know what these creatures are?” he asked, “You said something about a punishment?”

The fallen angel shook his head, clinging to Whiskey as if the creatures might drag him away. 

“Tell me,” Whiskey said gently, still on uneven footing when it came to interacting with Tequila as a fallen angel. He figured it would be best to be patient and careful until he better understood him. 

“I was warned that if I let Martini go, I would be severely punished,” he said finally, “But I don’t know the details.”

“By your god?” He asked, highly skeptical.

“I... I really don’t know what she is...” he replied, stumbling over his own words. 

“Don’t worry, I will find out,” he said firmly, extremely interested in what was going on behind the scenes. Whiskey bowed to no one. Whatever this entity was, it wasn’t going to steal his experiment out from under his nose. But first thing was first. He rained some of his own magic down on the strange splotches. And oddly there was no effect... Still they lingered nearby, waiting on Whiskey to look away before attempting to approach, then scurrying away as soon as he glanced at them. 

“Let’s go,” he urged the blind fallen angel.

Tequila nodded and clung onto his arm as they walked. Whiskey couldn’t help but scoff at the irony of this entire situation. He had originally wanted a powerful fallen angel at his command and to study him to advance his own research. What he eventually got was a blind, weak fallen angel that knew very little about his situation. Yet he continued to support him... the smart thing would have been to throw him away to the strange smoke creatures, but instead, his curiosity had been peaked, and he was stuck babysitting instead. He was a big believer in taking full advantage of anything life threw at him, but this was getting tiresome.

“You owe me,” Whiskey muttered.

“You sure about that?” Tequila quipped, equally irritated that he had to rely on the person who had driven him to falling. 

“I could just drop you off here if you aren’t grateful...”

“You better not!” he snapped, clinging onto Whiskey’s arm even tighter.


	12. The Plan

Weeks had gone by when Whiskey had finally developed a method to sever the strong link between “Mother” and Tequila. Interestingly this sort of link could only be found in “wild” fallen angels. Ones that had been purified did not seem to have this link, which was probably what made them much more manageable. Whiskey injected Tequila with his experimental elixir, which almost immediately cleared up his eyesight as well. When he was satisfied that every trace of connection to that despised entity was gone, Whiskey’s chest swelled with pride in his work. Only he could do such a thing. 

Tequila’s eyes slowly adjusted to the light. He was finally free, though he had mixed feelings about it. In his mind, his punishment had been well deserved, no matter how much Whiskey had tried to convince him otherwise. And during his punishment, he had still felt Mother’s affection, which was now yet another hole in his heart. Tears welled as he processed the loss, the logic of the situation unimportant. 

“The pain will fade,” Whiskey assured him, seeming to read the fallen angel’s mind, “Just think - you are free now. You don’t belong to any side in this war.”

“True... I’m free to make the distinction to destroy only evil humans and food souls,” Tequila agreed, “Something I didn’t fully understand even as a food soul. That good intentions mean nothing...”

“You won’t destroy me, will you?”

Tequila smirked. “No. You aren’t evil. You aren’t good either, and you certainly cause more than your share of destruction, but you have a purpose. The humans you exploit typically have a seed of evil that you cultivate and harvest. If it had not been you, something else could have sparked that growth, and nothing would exist to stop it.”

“That’s an interesting way of looking at it,” Whiskey mused, “Though I think you give me too much credit. I take it you will have a much different method of destroying evil?”

“I can’t hope to make a huge difference in the world, but I can focus my energy on a single town and protect it from evil,” he explained.

“Whatever you achieve will only be temporary, Tequila. Seeds of evil, as you call them, are more numerous than you think. Some of the kindest people carry them. Knowing you, destroying people with the _potential_ to do evil if pushed in the right direction won’t sit right with you. As soon as you look away, some of these seeds will grow. Mankind is not content with peace. You’re expecting too much from them. It isn’t sustainable.”

“What can I do?”

Whiskey wrapped his arms around his easily persuadable companion, more interested in his well being than the fate of mankind. “Let the humans eat themselves,” he advised, “Often they devise the best punishments for themselves without intervention. But I like your plan of focusing on one area. Let’s live somewhere filled with people and develop our own justice system separate from everyone else, where humans and food souls alike who have been wronged can come to us without us prompting them, and then we destroy the evil they discover. Less work and stress for us, and you are also teaching them to root out their own evil. Those that utilize our services to cleanse evil would be required to pay it forward. That way it would be self sustaining, too. We might even be able to move to a new area after setting up such a system.”

“That sounds very interesting. You’re very good at this,” Tequila marveled, inwardly very wary of Whiskey’s plans which often had terrible consequences. On paper it sounded great, but in practice... he was curious as to what Whiskey was trying to prove to him. How could such a thing go wrong? What lesson was he trying to relay to him? That caring about anything was meaningless perhaps? There was only one way to find out...


	13. Greenville

The town was called Greenville. It was nestled in the southwest of the Palata region. The name had probably been a joke to its founders since the area was mostly dirt with tufts of stubborn weeds sticking out of the ground. It couldn’t sustain large livestock, but goats and chickens were able to adapt to the harsh environment. The town itself was pretty populous due to a nearby silver mine. The wealth from the mine had brought the town plenty of problems. Law enforcement was overwhelmed with disputes and also fallen angels which preyed upon the town with just one Master Attendant that could barely keep up with the constant raids. 

“You’ve got your work cut out for you,” Whiskey said, looking around as they walked through town.

“Yep. I’m in my element here,” Tequila said, his grey eyes full of excitement, “Let’s find a place to stay.”

They decided on a modest looking inn, avoiding the fancy hotel with music and shouting spilling out of the windows. After ringing the bell, a human woman and petite food soul received them. The woman had strawberry blonde shoulder length hair and wore a simple white cotton dress. Her companion was significantly more elegant with beautiful white hair that flowed to her feet and a silk green dress. 

“Welcome to Greenville,” the human woman greeted with a tinge of irritation in her voice, “How many nights?”

“Let’s say a week for now,” Tequila answered. 

“Am I seeing thing or...” the human slowly realized that she was talking to a fallen angel, “Hold up! Mister, why the hell would you bring a fallen angel here?! Mung Bean, fetch the rifle!” 

The petite food soul darted around the corner as quickly as she could run as Tequila stuck his hands up with a gentle smile. 

“We got enough problems in this town!” the woman shouted.

“That’s why we are here,” Whiskey replied, “Let me introduce myself. My name is Mr. Vita, and this is my fallen angel, Tequila, once a food soul. He’s not like other fallen angels, trust me. He *protects* humans.”

Tequila didn’t care for that characterization. He was more interested in exterminating human evil than protecting anyone at this point, but it would probably put the woman at ease. 

Mung bean returned with the rifle and handed it to her Master Attendant. The woman loaded the gun for good measure but held it at her side. 

“Well, I’m Sue,” the woman said to the two strangers, “I’m also a Master Attendant, but uhh... we aren’t set up to fight really. I usually grab my gun and Mung Bean heals the folk who get hurt. The law takes care of most of the problems here. But honestly they are spread thin...”

Whiskey smiled calmly. She thought he was also a Master Attendant? He supposed that made sense. Tequila looked much less pleased, but he figured the fallen angel would appreciate it soon enough. 

“Good thing we have arrived then,” Whiskey said pleasantly, “About that room...”

“Oh, of course!! Right away! I’ve got a room upstairs vacant. We also include meals in the price here!” she explained, leading them upstairs. 

“This will do,” Whiskey said with an approving nod, “Don’t you think, Tequila?”

“Sure,” he answered, noticing Mung Bean hiding behind her Master Attendant. 

“If you don’t mind me asking, how did your food soul fall? I’ve never heard of a contracted food soul falling,” Sue asked, genuinely curious. 

“I’d rather not say,” Tequila answered for him, “It’s personal.”

“Oh, I’m sorry! Of course I understand! You seem nice enough though...” 

“Thank you, Miss.”

Tequila realized that he missed his original Master Attendant. He didn’t often think of her since it was so long ago, but the woman sort of reminded him of her in a way. He pushed the thoughts away. That was something only a food soul would be concerned about. He needed to focus on their mission, not the past. Suddenly he realized she was patting his back affectionately.

“Such a well behaved fallen angel...” Sue praised happily. 

“I’m not a pet,” he reminded her curtly, glancing away. 

“No, no, of course not!” Sue laughed lightly, retracting her hand. 

“... but if you insist..”

Sue smiled sweetly, understanding. “Then I do insist!” She patted his back a bit more, happy that he appreciated the praise despite trying to act tough. He still had the personality of a food soul, in her opinion. Happy to please and receptive to praise. It wasn’t a _pet_ thing, but she supposed they had similar relationships with humans. 

“Alright, we’ve got work to do,” Whiskey reminded the pesky woman, shooing her away.


	14. Rest and Relaxation

It didn’t take long for word to spread that Mr. Vita and his dangerous fallen angel were systematically picking off troublemakers in town. Sometimes the victim made sense, but other times the discovery was a complete shock. Only the people who had made the deal knew why such a person had been chosen. Sue and Mung Bean were aware of their guests’ activities but were reluctant to confront them due to the nature of the crimes being committed. Not only that, but they seemed inseparable. She couldn’t speak to Mr. Vita alone without Tequila’s stone gaze, and trying to talk with Tequila alone was impossible since she knew Mr. Vita was always nearby, waiting for her to slip up and say something incriminating in his opinion. 

“Mung Bean, I need your help,” she said to her faithful friend, “We are going to get to the bottom of this! You distract Tequila, and I’ll take on Mr. Vita. Find out what you can, alright?”

“Yes Master!! I’ll do my best!” She chirped happily.

Mung bean ran up the stairs and knocked politely on the door to the room where Whiskey and Tequila staying. Whiskey answered the door, glancing down at the petite food soul. 

“Are you lost?” He asked quietly, in no mood to entertain her. 

“No.... I was just wondering if Mr. Tequila was around...” she said, peering inside.

“And what business do you have with him? He’s dangerous, don’t you know?”

“Erm... it’s kind of personal.. please!! I don’t want Master Attendant finding out what I did and I need his help fixing it...”

Tequila looked over sympathetically. “If it won’t take too long...”

“It won’t!! I promise!!!” Mung Bean said, her hand over her heart. 

The fallen angel stepped past Whiskey and escorted the food soul down the stairs. Whiskey had just started to follow them when Sue tapped his shoulder. 

“Yes?” He asked, not bothering to hide his irritation. 

“Let’s talk about this side business.”

“Oh,” he said flatly, “Of course.”

Mung Bean led Tequila down to the basement where the preserves and jams were stored. She stopped in the middle of the room and smiled apologetically.

“Sorry, my Master Attendant wanted to talk to yours...” she admitted.

“He’s not my Master Attendant,” Tequila muttered quietly, getting really tired of the arrangement. 

“Mr. Tequila, I heard rumors.... that you murder people...” she said suddenly, “Why do you do it? Is it like... a fallen angel thing?”

“Maybe,” he replied, glancing away. 

“But you’re so nice!”

“I’m not... I’m really not.”

“It’s because of that man, right? Otherwise you wouldn’t hurt anyone, no matter what..”

“I can’t blame him,” he sighed, “I made these decisions. I’m at fault. My character is the one that is lacking. But it’s too late to turn back now...”

“It’s never too late, Mr. Tequila...” she urged, “Whatever it is, my Master Attendant and I can help you.”

“I appreciate it but-“

Mung Bean gave him a tight hug before he could protest. “It’s okay to be confused or feel lost. We aren’t meant to understand everything or always make the right decisions. It’s ok to lean on someone else, so long as they are trustworthy. I couldn’t imagine falling. It must have been so scary. But _you_ survived it. You are so brave to keep going every day. You aren’t like the other fallen angels. You are compassionate and you try your best. You just need direction. And you need to stop listening to Mr. Vita. Even if you owe him your life, you have to draw the line somewhere. You have to live for you. So won’t you smile and rest up with us? Away from the people that tempt you to do the wrong things?”

Tequila felt so empty. Even this food soul he barely knew had read the situation so accurately. Was he that pathetic and helpless? 

“Alright, if you won’t decide, my Master Attendant will decide for you,” she said firmly, “Because it’s for your own good.”

“Alright...”

“Hm?”

“Alright... I’ll do what you want.. just don’t ask me to smile,” he agreed quietly. 

Mung Bean grinned and took his hand, leading him back up the steps happily. Her face paled upon seeing Whiskey at the top of the landing, with a small trickle of blood running down his arm.


	15. A Happy Ending?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> That’s all folks!

“Going somewhere?” Whiskey asked, his voice dangerously soft. 

Tequila didn’t hesitate. He unholstered his gun and shot the food soul in the chest. Mung Bean shrieked, watching the tall gentleman crumple to the ground. Tequila helped her up the stairs and navigated around the still body. _Outclassed my ass, if a single shot does you in_ he thought darkly. They hurried up the stairs to find what he had expected. Sue had already been killed and likely Mung Bean would have been next. 

Mung Bean sobbed bitterly, her head buried in his chest. Her Master Attendant was the most important person in her life, and now she was gone forever because of that evil man. Tequila picked the wailing girl up in his arms and quickly left the inn. He didn’t know if Whiskey was dead, and he wasn’t going to stick around to find out. He did owe the man so much, but he felt equally harmed by him. But murdering the kind innkeeper was the last straw. Such a person could not exist in this world. He was a terrible blight, better off dead. 

When they were a safe distance away and Mung Bean had calmed down enough to talk, Tequila placed her down beside a wooden fence for her to lean against and compose herself. He leaned against the fence beside her, waiting for her to speak when she was ready. 

“I... don’t know what I’ll do..” she cried.

“You don’t have to worry about that,” he said quietly, “You know why?”

“Why?...”

“Because I will protect you,” he said firmly, “Like an older brother. We will take this one day at a time, alright?”

“Alright.” 

The tragedy affected both of them deeply. Mung Bean was obviously grieving her Master Attendant, and Tequila was heartbroken beyond all logic over Whiskey. The two decided to keep traveling in search of some purpose in life, but so long as they were friends, they could lift each other up and grow. 

To this day, there are rumors of a beautiful maiden in a green flowing silk dress traveling with a man shrouded in a dark cape with steel grey eyes. Should a fallen angel attack or a robber try to ambush them, those grey eyes were swift to notice, and his golden pistol would be drawn like a flash of lightning. The Holy See had of course taken notice of the pair, but it had been decided that they weren’t a threat (thanks to Martini’s intervention). 

When the two did decide to stop in town, they would temporarily part ways. Mung Bean would visit and heal the sick in exchange for new fascinating books, and Tequila took a break from his guard duty, grabbing two or three women at the bar and knocking a few back just like the old days. Despite his appearance, he still loved to flirt and have a good time. Once the ice was broken, people were very friendly with him. 

And in a dark secluded corner, red eyes peered at the fallen angel. The stranger never spoke but to order his usual Whisky on the rocks and slowly nurse the amber drink. He waited forever alone, obsessed and addicted to his experiment.


End file.
